There must be a corps that will battle for righteousness, for there are endless battalions who serve unrighteousness.

Sometimes a man does what he'd most like to avoid.

"Godling? Demigod?" Lysis nearly howled. "You'd be beaten black and blue in Thebes, and staked out overnight for claims like that. In Sparta, the secret police would ambush you, violate you, skin you alive and use your skull for a drinking cup."

War's balance will prevail.

Sacred Bands and elite squadrons aren't what the mercenaries' guild is about. Field them at your peril.

To take care of the world seemed, finally, a privilege rather than a burden. The Riddler had led them to life's greatest victory. They had found a home.

The Riddler says you make the world better one battle at a time.